By Alex McGilvery
Hank wandered about the empty house, bored out of his mind, from the kitchen with a fridge full of meals, to the TV showing only reruns, to the shelf of books he’d read a dozen times, then all over again. He’d expected having his parents away for five weeks would give him a sense of ecstatic freedom. He’d been wrong.
Freedom was dull.
A knock on the front door broke him out of his funk. He answered it. “Hello?”
A girl in cargo pants and a checked flannel shirt tied up showing her midriff beamed at him. “Hi. I’m Jenny. My last hitch dropped me in this neighborhood. Didn’t tell me it was the back end of nowhere.”
“Hank.” He put out his hand. Her grip sent warmth up his arm into his brain. “Yeah, life can be deadly boring here in the sticks. Like, it takes half a day to get to a cinema, then it’s playing some John Wayne flick.”
“He isn’t much to look at.” The girl tilted her head. “Though the horse he rides is nice.”
“There you go. I’d never have known about the horse.” Hank’s heart beat frantically. His brain threw random things toward his mouth. “Hitching rides can be dangerous. I hope you know how to defend yourself.” What am I saying?
“Yeah, there are a few creeps, but I know how to deal with them.”
“A little kung fu?”
Jenny’s laugh echoed musically, sending heat through his face.
“I grab, squeeze, and twist.” She rolled her eyes. “Not the safest when he’s driving.” Then she smiled in a way that made Hank want to melt. “Can I have my hand back?”
“Oh, right.” Hank let go. Now what? I don’t want her to leave yet. “There’s a bug on your shoulder. Hold still.” He leaned forward and flicked the insect away. Close enough to smell the apple scent of her hair, he moved his face a fraction of an inch and let his lips brush across hers. She tasted of apples and honey. What? He braced himself for the slap he deserved.
As he pulled back, it struck him. I’ve tasted her lips before.
“What’s wrong?” Jenny looked more concerned than upset.
“Déjà vu.” Hank rubbed his head. “Like I’ve done this before.”
“I know.” Jenny’s eyes lit up. “But I can’t remember where or when…”
Hank wandered about the empty house, listlessly waiting for an idea of what to do. He’d expected having his parents away for five weeks would give him a sense of ecstatic freedom. He’d been wrong.
Freedom was dull.
His feet carried him to the door, and he opened it to discover a girl on the step, her hand raised to knock. Her eyes widened, then she smiled.
“Hello.” Hank smiled back. Say something, keep her here. “You like the movies?”
“Yeah, sure. The last one I watched had a nice horse in it. I’m Jenny.” She put out her hand. Hank took it, and its warmth traveled up his arm to blow a few breakers in his brain.
“There’s a bug on your shoulder. Hold still.” He leaned forward to flick the insect away, then—as if he’d done such things all his life—moved closer and kissed her, his hand holding the back of her neck. She tasted of apples and honey.
As he pulled back, it struck him. I’ve tasted her lips before.
“What’s wrong?” Jenny looked more concerned than upset.
“It’s like we’ve done this before.” Hank rubbed his head.
“I know.” Jenny smiled at him. “But I can’t remember where or when…”
Hank wandered about the empty house, the hairs on the back of his neck on end. He’d expected having his parents away for five weeks would give him a sense of ecstatic freedom. He’d been wrong.
It actually felt a little creepy.
Something was going to happen. How do I know that? A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. He strode to the door and threw it open. A girl stood on the step, smiling at him. Hank pulled her to him and kissed her. She tasted of apples and honey.
He pulled back and frowned.
“This has happened before.”
“I know…”
His heart raced—something felt wrong. Who is she? What does she want?
Hank paced the empty house, his heart pounding. He’d expected having his parents away for five weeks would give him a sense of ecstatic freedom. He’d been wrong.
It was terrifying. He ran to the kitchen to find a knife, then waited, heart pounding, for the dreaded knock on the door.
“Jenny, you can’t keep doing this.” Paula tried to pull her back from the time machine. “You’re changing the timeline. Each time, your knowledge of his death the next day taints his memory further.”
“Nonsense.” Jenny yanked her arm away. “There is no theory to support that.” She looked at Paula’s worried expression and sighed. “Last time.”
“You have to let him go. It’s been twenty years.”
“I’ve never made another connection like that. I don’t know where or when I ever could.”
The settings were already in the computer. Jenny sat down and put the helmet on, then pushed the button to send her mind back to ride her body from twenty years before.
Jenny gave the driver the finger. How was she going to get a ride from here? Odd, the street looked familiar. She shivered. Just déjà vu. Knock on a door and ask for a ride. Hitching her pack into place, Jenny walked along the road to the first house. Her hand brushed across her lips, and she smiled. What am I doing? I should get out of here. The déjà vu struck harder, and Jenny tried to leave.
Her legs refused to obey. They carried her to the door.
“Oh, well. Now that I’m here…” Jenny raised her hand to knock.
Can you guess which song from the 1960's inspired this story? Share in the comments!
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Wonderful. Makes me feel the panic too.
Thanks for the kind words.
Hold on. What now? How’d he die? What happened? What happens when she goes in and he has a knife?
Gaaah!
Quite thrilling…!
(no idea about the song inspiration)
Thanks, I wanted to keep it open ended. Sometimes that’s more effective than a clear answer.
I really liked this. I too would love to know what happens, but I also agree sometimes its better to leave it up to the imagination. I really don’t know what song inspired this, but I’ll make a guess, actually I have two guesses, since I don’t seem to be able to choose between the two. The repetitiveness in “It’s now or Never”, kiss me, hold me, be mine, tomorrow will be too late. My second guess is “I can’t Stop Loving You”. Wanting to live in memories, it’s useless to say so I’ll just live my life in dreams of yesterday”. It was fun reading. Thanks for writing it.
Thanks for the comment.
A hint for the song. The title appears in the story somewhere.
This is fantastic! The open ending reminds me of the lady or the tiger story, but without being as binary as that. A good open-ended story keeps readers writing and re-writing the ending in their heads, and that’s exactly what I’m doing now. Excellent job!
I loved the repetitions of some poetic phrases, like tasting apples and honey, and “where or when (I ever could)”. I suspect those are related to whatever song it’s based on, but even without knowing the song they lend a nice poetry to the story. Great job, Alex!
Wow… wait…what… help! Yikes! You can’t stop there!!!!!
Gripping story! And rather sad, too. Both of them wanting a different ending, having a time machine, yet fate marches on…